Burn the Hope
by Loony Dagda
Summary: Neville has been declared the Boy Who Lived, but Harry's parents are still dead, and he's sent to live with the Dursleys. Come first year of Hogwarts, Draco meets the most interesting boy. Dark Slytherin Harry. All Draco's POV.


Hi, so I've been away from writing fanfiction for a while, just lost the drive to write anything really. But I've finally decided to get back into it. So this is the first chapter of a story which I attempted to write before, but I feel it was too cliched and the characters weren't written well at all. I hope I do a better job this time. so here it is, the first chapter of Burn the Hope!

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Chapter 1

A Spark

It was an unusually thoughtful Draco Malfoy that sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast on September second. On either side sat his cronies Crabbe and Goyle, both mindlessly carving a path through the platters of eggs, bacon, and any other edibles they could reach. However, Draco's plate remained untouched, the blonde's mercury eyes focused on a small hunched over figure at the end of the table, quietly eating a piece of toast.

For any who knew the young Malfoy heir, the thoughtful air alone was unusual. While it was well known that the boy could be as smart and cunning as his infamous father, Lord Lucius Malfoy; Draco was also unfortunately known for his generally brash, unthinking attitude. He knew he was superior, and acted like it, much to his father's displeasure.

This morning was different. Rather than lording over his peers the influence his father had within the magical British government, or bragging of the ease with which he would likely pass all of his classes, he had been tutored in magic before he could walk after all; Draco instead contemplated Harry Potter, the boy who had occupied his thoughts since the day before. The very boy whom he could not look away from that morning.

Harry Potter looked to be nothing special. Small, even for an eleven year old, with thin awkward limbs. Skin, pale almost to the point of sickliness, though otherwise unblemished. His hair, a barely tamed mop of inky black tendrils, confined to a muggle hair tie at the base of his neck. The only truly remarkable feature were his eyes, a green brighter than any jewel Draco had ever had the opportunity to see, and that was certainly saying something. Unfortunately, even those were dimmed and hidden behind a pair of thick, bottle cap glasses, held together at the nose by layers of tape. To top it all off, his robes and shoes were quite obviously second hand, possibly third or fourth hand if Draco were to take a guess. Even Weasley's robes looked better.

It really wasn't a surprise that the rest of Slytherin house sat as far away from the boy as possible, though this had as much to do with the boy's blood as it did his appearance. It was well enough known the boy was a half-blood, only marginally better than the mudbloods and blood-traitors that populated the school as well. And even worse, the boy's family was made up almost completely of light wizards. While in any other house that wouldn't have been an issue, in Slytherin it was. It was in Slytherin, where the children of dark families could come together, and form a solid united front against the rest of the school, comprised of light wizards who would do away with anyone remotely dark if they could. How dare this boy come and try to infiltrate the noble house of Slytherin, tainting what it stood for.

At least, that was the common thought of most of the students within the house. Draco couldn't find it in himself to share that opinion. Not after what he'd seen on the Hogwarts Express the day before.

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Hogwarts Express, Sept. 1

It was only half an hour into the trip and already Draco was bored. Crabbe and Goyle didn't exactly offer stimulating conversation, and bragging eventually got boring, especially when it felt like his audience was little more than a pile of rocks with a vaguely human appearance. So now he was on the search for entertainment.

His best option would be to find some lone first year mudblood to mock. People on their own always made better targets than those in groups. And surely, any mudblood on the train would be especially fun to torment.

It was then, as he stalked down the corridor, that a perfect opportunity appeared. not quite what he was looking for, but guaranteed to be more fun than any mudblood could be. Ronald Weasley, youngest son of the Weasley brood, sat all by his lonesome in a compartment not a foot away from Draco. From many joyful past experiences, Draco knew that the boy had a quick temper and was very easy to bait. All he had to do was slide the door open and the fun could begin.

He was stopped, hand inches from the door, however, by an unfamiliar voice from within the compartment. A boy, hidden form view by the very angle Draco could see the inside the compartment from, and that hid him from the Weasel, spoke in a voice cold enough to send shivers down his spine.

"I think you should leave, before I do something you'll regret."

It was then that Draco noticed how boldly Weasel's freckles stood out on his face, which was almost completely drained of color.

"You don't know who you're messing with! My best mate is Neville Longbottom! The Boy-who-lived!" Weasley managed to get out, showing some of that well known Gryffindor bravado. There was no doubt in Draco's mind where that boy would be sorted.

"You're right, of course. I haven't a clue who this bottom person is, and I don't care to find out. Now, I'll count to three, and by then you'll be out of this compartment, one way or another. One..."

In an amazing feat of speed, which surprised even Draco, Weasley jumped from his seat, grabbed his trunk from the overhead, and slid the door open hard enough that the glass actually shook. In his rush Weasley brushed past Draco without even realizing who he was. In that moment, before the door closed again, Draco caught sight of the boy, whose voice brought him back to the days when he was a little boy, his father towering over him with that glint in his eye. Green eyes locked with Silver, for the briefest of moments, before the boy looked back down at the book in his lap, and the door closed, blocking him from view once again.

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It wasn't until several hours later, that Draco learned that this boy was Harry Potter. This small, nervous figure was the boy who had spoken with such calm, cold menace, even Draco had been temporarily cowed. For a moment, after the sorting hat shouted out Slytherin and the boy made his way nervously over to the house of snakes, Draco wondered if that stunt on the train had been an act. How could this weak figure be that same imposing boy?

But that night, before all the newly christened Slytherins fell asleep, Draco caught another glimpse of the boys eyes, and it was then he knew. Harry Potter might possibly the most Slytherin of them all.

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Till next time. Hope you like this so far. I know this was a short chapter, but the rest will be much longer. Not sure when the next one will be out though. I'll try to get it out soon. All thoughts are welcome, especially constructive criticism.

Ciao XP

Loony


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